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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25182628">The Price of Immortality</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useful_Oxymoron/pseuds/Useful_Oxymoron'>Useful_Oxymoron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bellamione Cult's July Event 2020, Dark Hermione Granger, Depressing, F/F, Far Future, Immortality, Nihilism, Space Flight, Tea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:34:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25182628</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useful_Oxymoron/pseuds/Useful_Oxymoron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two immortals have their regular meeting and reflect on their existence.</p><p>Made for the Bellamione Cult Discord July 2020 event. Prompt: Tea Time</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger &amp; Tom Riddle, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>142</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Price of Immortality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>'Pity the warrior who defeats all his enemies.'</p><p>A rather fitting phrase. Voldemort had reflected on it many times in his long, immortal life.</p><p>He had achieved every goal he had set out to accomplish. He had pushed magic to its very boundaries until they could be pushed no further. He had created an Empire which spanned the world before it crumbled into the dust of uncaring history. He had elevated his name to the annals of eternity. And, foremost, he had achieved the immortality which would allow him to do all of this.</p><p>Then, there was nothing.</p><p>No more challenges to be had, no more limitations to push against, no more roles to play.</p><p>Just endless, dreary and dull existence in a world which had long since passed him by. To be honest, it was a surprise he was still functioning mentally: humans had never been meant to live as long as he had, after all.</p><p>He was sat on the rooftop of a muggle building, looking down upon a neon hellscape below. Of course, this building was made by muggles of a very different kind. The Fourth Age, they called it, because three times before, the muggles had destroyed all their creations with nuclear hellfire when the populations became too large to maintain. This Age, however, the muggles had managed to escape their hellfire by inventing spaceflight.</p><p>Only to discover that most of the galaxy was already owned and the other races were less than happy to see another player entering the field. Thus, the hellfire still happened, just not here. Honestly, he never paid much attention to it.</p><p>Muggles gonna muggle, after all.</p><p>He brought the cup to his lips and tasted the 'tea'. Or whatever it was supposed to be. Replicated overpriced crap. Real, actual tea was something he hadn't had since the Third Age.</p><p>He almost didn't hear her when she entered the patio. In fact, he barely looked up when she sat down in the chair next to him. Voldemort wouldn't have to: it could only be one individual.</p><p>“Tom,” she greeted.</p><p>“Granger,” he replied.</p><p>Forever young, but her tired dull eyes betraying an ancient, damaged soul, Granger looked much like she had in her younger years. Still, she bore the price of immortality: a permanently, sickly greyish skin, stringy hair and a dull, lifeless look to her countenance.</p><p>Three horcruxes. Three volunteers.</p><p>All to keep the resistance against his Empire, his rule, going. And it did. For centuries. For thousands of years. Plan after plan after plan after plan. It was like a chess game which lasted for generations. Pieces put on the board which would only play a role hundreds of years later. Their game continued from the First Age until far into the Third.</p><p>Point was, neither of them were played to win anymore around that time. It had purely been about playing their game to stave off the crushing boredom for both of them. It had taken them both eons to come to terms with that.</p><p>So when the Third Age ended in nuclear fire like it always had, both of them simply... walked away.</p><p>“How's your tea?” he asked.</p><p>“You call this muck tea?” Hermione sighed.</p><p>Granger was his equal in everything. He saw that now. She was every bit as cunning and ruthless as he was. She just always had better PR than he did.</p><p>Three horcruxes, Granger had. The three volunteers had been so honored to be able to sacrifice themselves for Granger's immortality. Of course, the girl had built up a cult of personality around herself. Both of them did. Both declared themselves the saviors of the wizarding world. Their message might have been different, but their methods were all the same.</p><p>He knew what had to be done to create a Horcrux. He knew the steps to take and what it would demand of both the sacrifices and the recipient. It's how he knew Granger was as ruthless as she was.</p><p>They sat together in silence. What really was there to say anyway? Most of everything they would have to say had been spoken about much, much earlier in their immortal lives.</p><p>He knew for a fact that she was just as tired of this immortal life as he was.</p><p>“So,” Tom asked. “Who are fighting this century? Sarian Dominion?”</p><p>“No, no, that was fifty years ago... I think...” Granger thought. “Or the century before that? Hard to keep track.”</p><p>“Really? How'd it end?”</p><p>“We lost the Carina-Sagittarius arm for the most part. Other than that, nothing much.”</p><p>“I distinctly remember hearing we were at war again.”</p><p>“When was this?”</p><p>“Twenty years ago? Give or take.”</p><p>“Oh, yeah, Nullification Golems. Our name for them. We don't know how they call themselves. Machine race. Bad. Not sure we're going to win this one. Projections are bad. They could be at Earth's doorstep in another two years.”</p><p>Voldemort thought a moment. “Oh.”</p><p>“I suppose we could move to another planet, but... eh, effort.”</p><p>“The muggles'll just start the Fifth age anyway. It's all pointless.”</p><p>“Less than pointless. Remember the war with the Sword of Stars? They promised us extinction.”</p><p>“But never made good on it because they lacked the spine.”</p><p>“Promises, promises,” replied Granger. “Never get your hopes up, because you'll always be disappointed. Every single time.”</p><p>Voldemort thought for a moment. “I believe I've never asked you how you got Bellatrix to switch sides.”</p><p>“You did ask. Endless times. The answer is always the same.”</p><p>“Indulge me.”</p><p>“Fine. You should have kissed her once in a while.”</p><p>Yes. The answer was still the same. And he still didn't understand. Like Granger, Bellatrix had taken a horcrux. One only, one victim. Not a volunteer. She wanted to stay with Granger through eternity, but in the end couldn't stand it. Somewhere in the Second Age, she say her goodbyes to both Granger and Tom, destroyed her horcrux and immolated herself right in front of them.</p><p>She died laughing, cackling with sheer joy to finally be released.</p><p>Granger looked at him, sensing his thoughts. Of course she would. This little ritual of their was nothing new. They had done it so many times before, more times than both could count. Both he and Granger had watched Bellatrix die and had felt only one thing: Envy.</p><p>Not anger, not sadness, not rage. Envy.</p><p>“I never had the courage to die,” said Granger.</p><p>“Same,” spoke Tom. “She was better than both of us.”</p><p>“So much better.”</p><p>And so, the two of them sat together and endured all silence, this dull and dreary existence had to offer. No challenges, no hope, no drive, not even pain. Nothing was left but the sheer emptiness.</p><p>It was in moments like this that both Tom Riddle and Hermione Granger understood what the price of immortality truly was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Looking for a great place to shoot the shit about Bellamione and other Black Sister ships? Click the link to join the Bellamione Coven Discord.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://discord.gg/rAKhWJQ"> Linky link to the discord</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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